He hit the ground running,
At the speed of light.
The star was brightly shining,
Like a neon light.
It's your favorite son.
It's your favorite son.
A fixture on the talkshows,
To the silver screen.
From here to Colorado,
He's a sex machine.
It's your favorite son.
It's your favorite son.
But isn't it a drag?
Isn't it a drag?
Isn't it a drag?
It's pretty bloody sad,
but isn't it a drag?
A clean-cut All-American,
Really ain't so clean.
His royal auditorium,
Is a murder scene.
It's your favorite son.
It's your favorite son.
Oh, isn't it a drag?
Isn't it a drag?
Isn't it a drag?
It's pretty bloody sad,
but isn't it a drag?
[Bridge]
Well no one says it's fair.
Turn a teenage lush,
To a millionaire.
Now where's your f*ckin' champion?
On a bed you laid.
He's not the All-American,
That you thought you paid.
It's your favorite son.
It's your favorite son.
But isn't it a drag?
Green Day - Favorite Son Lyrics
Green Day - Favorite Son Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
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He hit the ground running,
At the speed of light.
The star was brightly shining,
Like a neon light.
It's your favorite son.
It's your favorite son.
A fixture on the talkshows,
To the silver screen.
From here to Colorado,
He's a sex machine.
It's your favorite son.
It's your favorite son.
But isn't it a drag?
Isn't it a drag?
Isn't it a drag?
It's pretty bloody sad,
but isn't it a drag?
A clean-cut All-American,
Really ain't so clean.
His royal auditorium,
Is a murder scene.
It's your favorite son.
It's your favorite son.
Oh, isn't it a drag?
Isn't it a drag?
Isn't it a drag?
It's pretty bloody sad,
but isn't it a drag?
[Bridge]
Well no one says it's fair.
Turn a teenage lush,
To a millionaire.
Now where's your f*ckin' champion?
On a bed you laid.
He's not the All-American,
That you thought you paid.
It's your favorite son.
It's your favorite son.
But isn't it a drag?
At the speed of light.
The star was brightly shining,
Like a neon light.
It's your favorite son.
It's your favorite son.
A fixture on the talkshows,
To the silver screen.
From here to Colorado,
He's a sex machine.
It's your favorite son.
It's your favorite son.
But isn't it a drag?
Isn't it a drag?
Isn't it a drag?
It's pretty bloody sad,
but isn't it a drag?
A clean-cut All-American,
Really ain't so clean.
His royal auditorium,
Is a murder scene.
It's your favorite son.
It's your favorite son.
Oh, isn't it a drag?
Isn't it a drag?
Isn't it a drag?
It's pretty bloody sad,
but isn't it a drag?
[Bridge]
Well no one says it's fair.
Turn a teenage lush,
To a millionaire.
Now where's your f*ckin' champion?
On a bed you laid.
He's not the All-American,
That you thought you paid.
It's your favorite son.
It's your favorite son.
But isn't it a drag?
Writer: BILLIE JOE ARMSTRONG, FRANK E., III WRIGHT, FRANK EDWIN WRIGHT III, MICHAEL PRITCHARD, MIKE DIRNT, MIKE RYAN PRITCHARD, TRE COOL
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Performed By: Green Day
Written by: BILLIE JOE ARMSTRONG, FRANK E., III WRIGHT, FRANK EDWIN WRIGHT III, MICHAEL PRITCHARD, MIKE DIRNT, MIKE RYAN PRITCHARD, TRE COOL